Dark Dreams
by Dancergirl51
Summary: Dear Minister of Magic: Here is the report you requested. I wrote everything down about my life since the day that my dream-less sleep potion ran out. Please read this carefully, but don't judge me until you have read it all. Hermione Jane Granger/Riddle
1. Dreaming Again

**I got this idea when I fell asleep during a social studies final...**

**Disclaimer: (for the entire story) No, I am not JK Rowling, stop rubbing it in.**

* * *

_**Dark Dreams  
**by Dancergirl51_

Summary: Hermione had nightmares frequently. She had a potion, but when Snape refused to give her ingredients, she used a type of old magic. Her life changed dramatically when she realized that her "tattoo" not only was permanent, but deadly and dangerous. And not only to her.

_Introduction:_

Dear Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge,

When I agreed to do this- this memoir of sorts- I agreed to on three conditions set aside by Professor Dumbledore and myself:

1. This was only to be read by my eyes until I decided to let it be seen.

2. This was to be absolutely 100 percent honest. I could not let myself lie to myself or anyone else.

3. This was perfectly safe.

Little did I know, none of these were kept. So, naturally, my story got into the wrong hands. Actually, Minister, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This is my story of my life. Please don't hate me once you read this. I swear that things will make sense in the end. Just hear me out until then.

Sincerely yours,

Hermione Jane Granger

* * *

_Chapter 1: Dreaming Again_

_Coughing, and breathing heavily, I ran. The footsteps matching my stride never let me more than a few paces away. The darkness settled around me like an electric blanket and I couldn't see where I was heading._

_The road beneath me became rugged and uneven. I couldn't even see the rock in the road, yet I grimaced as I felt myself hit the ground._

_With the whispering of the words "I've got you, now!" I awoke._

* * *

Ginny watched her friend's odd behavior. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I dreamt last night." I whispered.

"But-but what about..? But- your potion!"

"I finished it. And I can't make any more until I get more ingredients in Diagon Alley. Snape won't let me have more ingredients."

"That bastard!"

"Ginny!"

"Well, it's true! Why doesn't Dumbledore step in? Protect you?"

"I asked him not to," I got up, leaving my dinner to be inhaled by Ron.

* * *

I fought to stay awake that night. I tossed and turned for hours until I finally left the dorm. I walked carefully down the stairs and sat in front of the dying fire.

I watched it with a mild interest. I began to wonder how I had gotten there- to Hogwarts- and if I really belonged.

I pulled out a bottle of ink and a sharp quill.

I dipped it in the ink and began to draw. I drew right on my skin. Patterns, symbols, and swirls emerged. I worked quickly and silently.

As soon as my left arm was covered, I took out my wand and froze the images so they wouldn't smudge.

Then, my eyelids began to close. I blindly made my way back to my dormitory.

By the time I let myself collapse on my bed, I was already in a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

I woke with a hand firmly shaking my body. "Get up!" Ginny screamed in my ear. "You have five minutes!"

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"We were trying to!"

I ran into the bathroom, and put my hand under the stream of icy water. I scrubbed with all my power, but the designs wouldn't leave. My frantic scrubbing only wasted precious time.

When I heard Harry calling me, I threw on robes and grabbed my school bag. I raced down the stairs, taking them three at a time, and pulled both of the boys behind me as I sprinted to potions.

Of course. Potions.

Professor Snape eyed us evilly as we rushed in right before the bell rang.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor."

"Why?"

"I dislike you."

I opened my mouth.

"-and, you were running. You are all red in the face, and out of breath."

I closed it. Harry looked like he was going to attack the professor, but only managed not to by the look on my face.

"What's wrong?"

I debated whether or not I should tell him. If I were to tell him about my arm, he would wonder about the dreams. And was he ready for my secrets? Was I ready for him to know? I decided at this time that he wasn't. I'm glad I did.

If I had told him- or you, Minister, at this time in my story- things would be a whole lot different.

And I like things how they are now.

"Nothing. Go fetch me a moonstone." I said. Harry left immediately to the store cupboard, as I knew he would.

But I still had to wipe a tear as he left. He was just _too_ easy to fool.

* * *

**Okay. Good? I hope so.**

**Please, no flames. Please? Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Dancergirl51**


	2. Asking for Advice

****

**Within five minutes of posting the first chapter, one reviewer told me to write the second. I was honored, yet I promplty ingored it.**

* * *

_Chapter 2:_ _Asking for Advice_

I remember spending the rest of the day going to the bathroom between all of my classes. I was frantically trying to get rid of the ink.

After I removed the anti-smudging spell, I tried every spell I could possibly think of. I also examined the quill and ink.

The only incriminating evidence was that the ink said right on the label, "Permanent ink." Go figure.

Finally admitting defeat, I went to Professor Dumbledore. When I went to his office, he greeted me with a warm smile that I was not sure I deserved.

" Miss Granger."

"Hello, Professor."

"Is there something troubling you?"

I avoided his eyes. "Yes, Professor. My nightmares returned a few nights ago. Professor Snape had expressed his wishes for me not to use any more ingredients from his cupboard." I paused.

"And you wish for me to talk to him for you?"

"No! It's not that. I found… a way… around the potion. A form… of ancient magic…"

"Yes?"

"I used a quill… and a bottle of ink… and drew symbols and markings that commonly express sleep." I looked at my feet then, unsure of what else to say.

"And the problem is..?"

"I can't get it off." I whispered.

The old professor regarded me with a strange look in his eyes, then. "May I see your arm?"

I held out my left arm to him. He studied my arm carefully.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. If anything… unusual happens, then please come back. But, I think it will fade."

I didn't notice the slight coldness to his voice. Nor did I notice the fact that his eyes remained on my arm long after he let it go.

It hadn't occurred to me that there was a possibility that the old man was lying. If only I had noticed… or pressed for more answers… maybe, it would have been better? Minister, I am not a bad person, as I have stressed. I just made a large mistake. As a teenager, I am allowed a certain number, right?

Are they all weighted the same?

* * *

I remember distinctly, that night, the night after I noticed the ink designs wouldn't come off. I remember getting up after lying awake, staring at the ceiling.

I remember walking to Ginny's room and dragging her into the deserted dormitory.

"Ginny?"

"Yes?"

And I told her about my arm.

She grabbed my arm gently after I finished telling her. She turned it over. "I don't know much about this..." she paused, looking at the back of my hand, where some of the... prettier designs were. "...but if Professor Dumbledore isn't worried, then you shouldn't be either."

I sat in bed, long after Ginny and I parted ways. I fell asleep that night, dreaming nothing.

Yet, I remember waking up abruptly in the middle of the night, absolutely sure someone was waking me. The room was dark, and nothing had stirred, so I let it be.

Yes, I let it be.

I didn't think twice about it, until a few weeks later.

**

* * *

**

**Well, I am back from Deutschland. It was nice, but I am glad to be home, and thanks to all my patient readers... I _do_ know you're reading.**

**Dancergirl51**


	3. Being Watched?

**I was in the mood to write, so here you are! Have fun!**

****

**Interesting Quote I came by: If you hide, who will seek? - Unknown**

* * *

_Chapter 3: Being Watched?_

I smiled when I walked to class the next morning. I wore long robes with long sleeves underneath them. I hoped that nobody would notice.

Guess what? Nobody did,

I know what you're thinking, Minister. You are thinking: _what is this girl doing?_ Trust me. Please. I tried my hardest.

Anyways, I distinctly remember Potions that day. Professor Snape had been as nasty as usual, making us create the most difficult potion he could come up with. We worked (as usual) in the hot, musty dungeons. We all were sweating as he walked around the cauldrons, sniffing unpleasantly. I distinctly remember the fact that he looked at my potion quickly and turned away, facing another corner of the room.

I don't think he knew I noticed the look of pity on his face.

That night, after the hectic day, I wrote a letter to my folks.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_ I wote.

_It is that time of year again, Thanksgiving. This year is especially difficult with OWL's approaching. I guess I thought that life at Hogwarts would be easier as we got older. I am ashamed to say I am dreadfully wrong. It only seems to get harder._

_Life goes on, and the feast is only a few days away. I want you to know I am thinking of you during these holidays._

_Love,_

_Hermione Jane Granger_

If only things had gone on, a little by little, as simple as could be, with the only complication being that I had a little tattoo...

I actually considered telling my parents. I actually did! Getting a "permanent tattoo" is something a mother would want to know. But, I decided at the last minute not to.

Not that it changed anything. Just thought you ought to know.

* * *

Do you know the feeling of being watched? The feeling of waking up with someone watching you?

It happened again, that night.

* * *

**Please review!!**

**Dancergirl51**


	4. An Unhelpful Book

**I was inspired!! For that, you get a chapter, though I am astounded at the lack of reviews!**

**Quote: If to dance is to dream, I shall make your dreams come true. - Unknown**

* * *

_Chapter 4: An Unhelpful Book_

After scratching out the tenth sentence on the parchment, throwing the quill across the room and screaming "I HATE QUILLS!" at the top of my lungs, I went upstairs and slammed my door. (Lavender and Parvati yelled at me.) I remember Harry and Ron exchanging the "oh, she's PMSing" look again.

Honestly. Guys think if anything happens to a girl that's out of character, either something is very wrong or major PMS. They usually go for PMS, because it's the easy way out.

If I didn't know any better, I would say they didn't care. But that couldn't be it, right?

I shrugged my traitorous thoughts off easily. I mean, we're the Golden Trio, right? We're golden. Set for life. We will kill Voldemort together, work together, and grow old together.

Set in stone. Permanent.

But, now there was one problem. A slight bump, if you will. It's set in ink. On my arm.

Anyway—I stayed up late that night, pouring over _Ancient Magic: an easy way out, or a_ _complication waiting to happen? _by Rachelle Robinson.

I have never felt closer to a person than when I saw this book in the library. Rachelle Robinson, my savior.

Imagine my disappointment, Minister, when only a few days later, I noticed the conclusion Rachelle drew. She was all pro- ancient magic, even though she wrote of small mishaps that happened from old magic.

Minor mishaps, she said.

_Of course_, missing an arm or leg is minor. If it's not your arm or leg. I mean, it's not _death_ we're talking about. Just a missing limb.

Maybe Rachelle Robinson should have drawn on her arm.

* * *

**I hope you are liking it. I am working on suspenseful chapters that you don't know what's going to happen next. Am I doing that well?**

**Please review!! I really, _really_ want to know how you like it!! It makes it a hundred times easier if you tell me if you like it!!**

**Dancergirl51**


	5. Voices

**I send love to my friend, who's father just died of cancer. Rest in peace.**

**And to my father, whose grandfather died just days ago.**

**Quote: Opportunity dances with those already on the dance floor. -H. Jackson Brown Jr.**

_

* * *

_

Chapter 5: Voices

I walked along the courtyard, unimpressed by the chattering and yelling. A duel is starting up. I can see the fury in their eyes.

I _should_ break it up... I _am_ a prefect...

Ron walks up to me. "Hermione, is something wrong?"

"No! Why would you ask that?"

"You're blue."

I roll my eyes. "No, I am just a little... overwhelmed."

"No, I mean, Hermione. _You're_ _blue_." He points at my arm, staring. Of _course_ he wouldn't pick up on my feelings. I am, literally, blue. "Hermione, what's _that_?" He's still staring at my arm.

You'd think he's three. I yank my arm out of his reach. "I should go find a spell to make me... not blue... Gotta go!" I sprint away from him to the forest. _Why am I blue? _I have to ask myself. _What did I do to turn blue?_

_It's almost time,  
I can tell.  
Minutes now  
my sweet.  
Just wait.  
I'll come...  
give me time...  
I'll rescue you...  
I promise._

I hear the words, but I am alone, right? I'm safe, right? I can't be dreaming... no! I can't be! My tattoo! My-

I sink to the ground at an alarming speed. I feel the dirt around me. _Who's coming for me?_

**

* * *

**

Okay. I am upset about a good number of things right now. I need some time to relax and to well, help my friend out. As soon as things get a little better, I'll update. Bare with me, though. My friend is... well... not doing too well, even though we've known his condition for six months now... not that it makes it any easier. Not at all.

**And I am missing school for the second funeral...**

**Please don't get mad at me... I'll update when I can.**

**Dancergirl51**


	6. A Dream Like No Other

__

**Well, my dad's grandmother just died, so I now have to work with that... and my cousin's back in the hospital. Please bear with me, again, as I update... slowly.**

**Quote: "If I can't dance—I do not want to be a part of your revolution." Emma Goldman **

* * *

_Chapter 6: A Dream Like No Other_

"Hermione!" They are yelling loudly. Do I hide or let them find me?

"HERMIONE!" Harry this time.

Now, my dear Minister, I understand that you think this is the point I should have returned to Dumbledore and gotten help. As I have shown earlier, this is unreasonable and quite impossible.

Instead of running to his office, I hid.

Yes, the blue, tattooed, seventh-year bookworm hid.

Remember the Room of Requirement? (From the fifth year Dumbledore's Army meetings?) I hid there, and I asked the room to keep out certain... individuals.

It worked.

"Room? May I have a bed?" I may. The first thing I do in the room? I collapse. And I cry. _How did this happen? Okay, the tattoo is quite suspicious, but why am I _blue? I remember feeling a bit nauseous after drawing on my arm, but _why?_

Let's compile a list.

1. Snape refuses to give me sleep potion ingredients.  
2. I draw on my skin.  
3. It refuses to come off.  
4. I ask Dumbledore for help. He's unhelpful.  
5. I hear voices.  
6. I turn blue.

It began with Snape. Ends with pigmented skin.

Not very helpful, right?

Wrong. As soon as I finish the word "blue," I immediately fall... I don't know if "unconscious" or "asleep" is the right word...

Either way, I dream.

* * *

_It's a darkened room. There is people in a circle. The people around me are breathing heavily, as if anticipation is keeping them from catching their breath._

_They converge on me, wands raised. Mine is suspiciously missing. Where is it?_

_They are laughing. A cold, high, cruel laugh stands out._

_Red, slitted eyes stare at me._

_"It's almost time. Not much longer, now." He hisses._

And then I wake up.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait! Don't hate me! Please review!**

**Dancergirl51**


	7. A Nightmare to Remember

**Okay, so school is about to start once more. Gosh, I hate school.**

**Quote: "One may judge a king by the state of dancing during his reign." Chinese proverb.**

_

* * *

Chapter 7: A Nightmare to Remember_

I looked around the room, nauseous. If I was scared before I went to sleep, it was nothing compared to what I felt then.

I was wondering what was going to happen, when I got exhausted again. This time, I knew I was dreaming. It didn't help much, though, it was still frightening. The world around me shimmered, like the sun reflected on the surface of my father's swimming pool. I heard a whisper, "She will know soon."

I got a glimpse of a face. Cold, calculating, red eyes, staring through slitted eyelids. The voice hissed dangerously and the room stopped shimmering.

Mr. Minister, I am not an unintelligent person. Quite the contrary. I know as soon as it stopped shimmering, that this was beyond my control. I got up and started towards Dumbledore's office, but then I realized something. The pigmentation of my skin was normal.

My thoughts were if the coloring changed, clearly my tattoo would disappear, too, right?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself, again.

After I realized this fact, I headed straight up to the Common Room. Harry and Ron were waiting for me.

"Hermione!" Harry sounded relieved.

"Yes?" Keeping up with the calm, collected bookworm charade, I acted aloof and almost bothered by them.

"You are alright!"

"Yes. It was just... PMS." _Again._

"Your period makes you turn color?" Ron, baffled, examined my right arm. The one without the tattoo.

"I was depressed. Blue." Clearly this made _no_ sense, but to my surprise...

"_Oh. _Okay." I studied Ron incredulously.

_Wow, I almost _wanted _him to not believe me._ But that couldn't be right. Right? I walked straight up to my dormitory. _I will need the rest,_ _for tomorrow, _I told myself, as I crashed, unaware of the dream that was about to take place.

* * *

_Cheerful voices rang out. "She's here!" "We can begin!" "She's ready!"_

_But, again, one voice rang out above the others, its voice menacing and cruel. "It's time." It boomed, quieting everyone else down. "My child," so softly, it could have been anything else._

_I chose to believe he said "In awhile," but this was soon to not be._

_"Hermione Jane Granger." Mocking laughter accompanied this statement. "You are here to pronounce your faith."_

_"I have been Confirmed already." Dream-me said._

_Merciless laugher followed my words. "To ME!" The voice continued._

_"I will never betray Our Father and my beliefs. I do _not _belive in your dream to see the world rid of muggleborns!" I said, unsure of what was to follow this profession of faith._

_"But would you betray _your _father?"_

_"My father is a Muggle."_

_"Not your adopted father." The voice mocked. "Me."_

_And Lord Voldemort stepped out of the darkness of the dream._

**

* * *

****OOOH! Quite the cliffhanger, if I may say so myself. I will probably update later this week... I don't know. Let's see!**

**Plus that was REALLY long for me! YAY!**

**Dancergirl51**


	8. Spreading

**School stinks. End of story.**

**Quote: "Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order." Samuel Beckett**

_

* * *

_

Chapter 8: Spreading

I knew something was wrong. My eyes were open. I was completely, one hundred percent awake. I pinched myself, just to be sure. But I knew, deep inside that something was much more wrong then even I knew.

And maybe, Professor Dumbledore could help.

One might think that it would be nice to have normal teenage problems. Like, gee, I don't know. Drama? But instead, I had a raving murderous man completely convinced that he is my father. Or at least, in my dreams he believed it. Which, really, scared me more than the actual dream itself.

I decided to go to Professor Dumbledore.

"Hello, Professor," and without any other introduction, I began to weave my story of my dreams. And my tattoo, which has grown to encompass not only the underside of my left arm, but also the top of my arm. And my left shoulder.

But it didn't grow suddenly. It was like that when I had woken up from the latest dream. I just hadn't noticed it until Professor Dumbledore asked me to show him my tattoo, and I realized that it had spread.

The intricate, curling pattern I had drawn on the underside continues around my wrist, and to the bottom of my shoulder blade. The rest of the tattoo has a design frightening to me, familiar, but somehow, it eluded me.

It was a tube, coiled at random intervals. The one end folded under near around my wrist, the only place where the two tattoos touched. The other end opened up at my shoulder blade. I could not get a good image of it, and the professor refused to draw it out for me, saying that he cannot draw it properly, and that his artistic skill were... lacking. But he did say that the end opened up, much like a semi-inflated balloon, and at one portion of the opening, a tiny divot, with a red ribbon exuding from that point.

He was intentionally vague, but I understood what he didn't.

It was a snake.

* * *

_A room, lit by candlelight. An armchair sat in the middle of the room, red, like the eyes that peered out of the dark. The rest of the room was empty. I don't know how, but I knew, for certain, that nobody else was there. We were completely alone. "Can you see what you have done?" The cruel voice of my nightmares echoed across the room. "You have involved the old fool. He cannot do anything now but cause you more pain."_

_"You would like that," I spat._

_"My darling, I would never wish that."_

_"Then _why _are you still plaguing me? Haunting me? Creating this horror, this nightmare?"_

_"Can't you see? It's your destiny." He whispered, awed._

_"Then I reject it." I argued._

_"You cannot _reject _it. You are the Dark Lord's daughter. _You _are the Dark Princess."_

_"That's stupid."_

_"No matter, it's true. And _you, _my dear, will have to come to terms with it soon. You are almost ready for the final stage. Your tattoo will soon be completely filled. And then_ you _will finally come to_ me_."_

_"In your dreams." I said, with as much venom as I could._

_"No. We will both be awake."_

**

* * *

****Okay, so one last note... I COMPLETELY finished this in the deadline I set for myself, which was today, even though, I may or may not have gone on a shopping spree today, and may or may not have spent all of my money in various stores, and may or may not have had a great time...**

**So, HA! I still made the deadline, no matter WHAT may or may not have occured. **

**And no, the mall dinner-plate police did _not_ get me in trouble, though they tried at least three times.**

**Dancergirl51**


	9. Completion

**Quote: "There are short-cuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them." Viki Baum**

* * *

_Chapter 9: Completion_

Dear Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge,

I remember that morning specifically well. I remember that I woke up, with a deep, instinctual feeling that I could _not_ tell Professor Dumbledore about my new dream. I knew that my days of turning to him were long gone.

It was at this point that I awoke completely, no longer groggy and just-awoken like one normally is having just woken up. I got ready for classes and went down for breakfast. I knew exactly what had to be done. And I was ready to do it.

I was going to contact Lord Voldemort.

* * *

As soon as I made this decision, a darkness descended on me. I had, intuitively, known that something would happen but not to this extent. I knew the way to get to my... father, I just had something in my way. Something was holding me back. I just didn't know what, yet.

"Potty. Weasel. How is your day?"

"Go away, _ferret_." Ron, completely oblivious to the interaction between Malfoy and Harry, continued shoving his face.

"I am not done yet." _Pompous, arrogant toerag-_ "I have a message for Grange- _Hermione_." (He visibly shuddered.) "You are needed in the Entrance Hall."

Silently, he followed my steps to the Entrance Hall, and then led the way out of the doors into the grounds. Guessing his message was more... private, I let him lead me away. We continued our way in silence to the Forbidden Forest. "Where are you taking me?"

"Here." A clearing in the middle of the forest. Of course. With fallen logs all around. How... _quaint. _"I have a gift for you, Grang- _Hermione__._ The Dark Lord wanted me to give you."

_"What?_" I got aggravated, then.

"Lift up your shirt."

"_What? _Ewww! No!"

"Trust me... Hermione. I have no... intentions. I need to see your back."

Grudgingly, I lifted my shirt then. What other choice did I have? I had already let myself get in this mess. So why not let myself get more messed up? Draco, as I began to call him, came up behind me, and pressed his wand into my left shoulder blade. From there, he let his want trail across to my right shoulder blade, and down to the top of my jeans. Muttering, he went slowly as he made the pattern again, starting at my right shoulder blade, then at my left hip, and then my right.

It got very hot then. Like I had just tanned in the sun for five hours, and my back was burned. Seconds later, my skin returned to a normal temperature.

I let my shirt fall down and I stood up.

Draco came to the front of me. "Your tattoo is complete. You have accepted your destiny. It will soon begin, and I am here to serve."

"Don't be stupid."

"My Princess." And he bowed.

* * *

Soon, I began to realize that things weren't the same. I would go to put on makeup, but I wouldn't need it. I would be late for charms, but as soon as I started rushing, I was suddenly... there. I would try to brush my teeth, but my teeth would hurt. I would try to eat, but nothing was appetizing. I would try to do a running cartwheel, but I would end up going very high in the air.

Something was wrong. Not a bad wrong, but just... wrong. Different. Awkward. My body fat disappeared. My eyes became more slanted, more exotic-looking. My hair became shinier, and started fading to a dark brown. My muscles became more defined.

And after a week or so, if I ate, my stomach hurt. Not like a stomach ache, but more like someone was punching my stomach. From the inside.

Something was wrong. But I knew who could help.

* * *

**I did some stupid things... Doing cartwheels/round-offs. Slightly spraining my ankle and almost breaking my thumb... Right before dance season starts up again. I am NOT happy.**

**Dancergirl51**


	10. Contacting Father

**Instead of a quote, I decided for a poem!**

**_Discovery_**

**Brown hair, blue-green eyes  
****hidden by a mask  
****Short nails, long legs,  
****daunting is this task.  
****"To see is to believe"  
****but is that really true?  
****Is the brown hair, blue-green eyes,  
****is it really you?**

**-Karina**

* * *

_Chapter 10: Contacting Father_

"I need your help."

"How-" he twitched-"may I serve you?"

"Eeew. Malfoy, you may _not _serve me, but you can _help_ me."

"I'll do anything you require."

"Hmm... interesting. So if I required a death of a certain blonde-haired imbecile..?" I smirked, but then shook my head to clear it. "_Not _the point, however. I need to contact my..."

I stopped, not wanting to actually _acknowledge_ the misfortune formally known as Tom Riddle.

"... Father?" Draco supplied.

"Yes, I suppose so." I sighed.

He laughed quietly, not at all like the usually mocking laughter I was used to hearing emitting from that mouth. "It's not hard. Think about it. What do all your fathers' loyal supporters have?" With a blank look he continued: "That has to be kept hidden from the ministry?" Another blank look. "Something that you recently acquired?"

"Oh. That_._"

"Yes, _that._"

"So what do I do with it?"

"The Dark Lord gave me strict instructions on how to tell you to get in touch with him. You touch a wand to the inside of your left wrist. Then hold it there until you feel a slight burning. Your father will feel the same thing. If he grants your request to a meeting, he'll send you another burning sensation on your back, this time."

"But how do I _meet _him?"

"You sleep."

"But what if I'm not tired?"

He rolled his eyes. "You will be."

* * *

_He sat at a long table with two men: one at each side. The man at his right immediately removed his mask for her, the man on his left didn't._

_"My daughter."_

_"Father."_

_"Why did you wish to speak to me?"_

_"I don't understand what is happening."_

_"You will, soon. It will all make sense. You have just two more weeks before Christmas break." Was it really that short? "You will come home then."_

_The man on his right smiled, but it came out more like a smirk. "I will see you three then?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Then who _are_ you?"_

_"You will know soon enough. Now, my daughter, we must depart. Someone is looking for you, and we mustn't keep them waiting... they are useful. Now, awaken."_

* * *

**So... what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Review, please!**


	11. A Friendship Fallen

**Quote: When life gives you lemons, make grape juice, then sit back and watch the world wonder how you did it. -Unknown**

* * *

_Chapter 11: A Friendship Fallen_

"Hermione, we're worried about you."

I looked at Ginny with a strange look in my eyes. I knew it was there; I had perfected it in the bathroom mirror. Fight fire with fire and all that.

"We're worried that you haven't been eating much lately."

"I haven't been hungry."

"That is the most-often used excuse by anorexics." Ginny stated, completely serious.

I studied Lavender then. She _looked_ serious, too, but there was a glint in her eyes. Somehow, this girl found it beneficial to _her _if I was mentally unstable. I wondered why that was...

"So we contacted your family."

_"What?" _I hissed, anger boiling to the surface. "My father is coming _here?"_

"Yes," Ginny smiled. "Your mother, too. I got to use one of those funny things Dad always talks about... a telephone?"

Of course she was talking about my _Muggle _parents. Who didn't even have the decency to tell me I was adopted. Unless, I _wasn't _adopted. That would make me a quarter-blood. But even then, someone should have told me

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Are you even listening?"

"There are things more important than food. Things more important than what you find vital to your survival. When you wake up, let me know. I'm busy sleep-walking."

Lavender looked confused, then. Of course. Metaphors were too complicated for her. Even such a simple one.

"Good bye."

I got up, then and started to head back to my dormitory. Ginny put a hand on my shoulder. "_You_ sleep, too, you know."

"But_ I _wake up. That's the difference." I walked up the stairs, then, leaving her behind me.

* * *

Harry and Ron, oblivious as always, did not realize the freeze-out Ginny and Lavender were giving me. They didn't even realize when I reached over Harry for the water pitcher and intentionally exposed my left forearm. But, later that night, something changed, and Minister, I didn't know what. Harry and Ron stopped talking to me. I remember this in particular, because it surprised me that it didn't hurt.

I felt no pain from my so-called friends ditching me.

* * *

_"My Princess," Draco bowed._

_"Draco." I acknowledged. "Father. Malfoy."_

_Mr. Malfoy quickly snapped his head up. "What is _she _doing here?"_

_"You will not speak to my daughter in that way."_

_"But this was supposed to be a private meeting."_

_"You will _not _contradict me, either."_

_"But-" __A quick Cruciatus curse silenced his disobedience. "My Lord."_

_I looked at him. "Why am I here?"_

_"There is much we have to discuss before you come to me for Christmas. We have to talk about your... _Griffindor _status. And certain... protocol you will need to hold. But that is all for a later date. We were here to talk about your friends."_

_"My... friends?"_

_"Yes, Hermione. Harry... Potter. And Ronald. You must get as much information as possible from them. And then we must get you out of there."_

_"But, Father, they are mad at me!"_

_"Why?"_

_"I am not certain."_

_"Your first mission is to make amends, much as it pains me to say it. And then, you must dig deeper. Find out any plans they may have. Keep your mark hidden, Hermione, as it bears my name. And don't forget..." The image started shimmering away. "Don't forget that Draco can..." even fainter, now: "help."_

* * *

My _Dear_ Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge,

Up until this point, the story is pretty self-explanatory. You already knew most of it; the back-story. What is to come will be more... difficult, and I am cordially inviting you to stop reading now. This is a crucial point in the story. From here on out, the story gets tangled in trust, betrayal, friendship... and a bit... more than friendship.

I am cordially inviting you to stop reading this to protect the innocent. Or, mostly innocent.

The names, conversations, and happenings are to be recorded exactly as how I remember them. You encouraged me to leave nothing out. So nothing will be omitted.

Nothing.

And, don't say I didn't warn you, Minister, when things get a bit... muddy.

* * *

**So... what did you think? Love it? Hate it? Review, please!**


	12. Making Amends and A Realization

**Quote: "No, I can't explain the dance to you. If I could tell you what it meant, there would be no point in dancing it." Isadora Duncan**

* * *

_Chapter 12: Making Amends and A Realization_

"Clearly, in the dream, I remember her laugh. Cynical and calculating, cutting through the dark, and giving chills when she said..." Harry broke off then, noting my presence, but clearly ignoring it anyway, refusing to continue speaking.

"Harry? We need to talk."

"Why don't you talk to _Draco?_" Wow, Harry, what are we, four?

"Why should I?"

"Isn't he your _boyfriend?_"

Whoa. I hadn't expected that. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

"That's not what I heard."

"Yeah, Hermione, the latest gossip is that you and Draco were spotted going into the forest at night together. _In the dark!"_ Wow, Lavender, thanks for your latest illuminating insight.

"No."

How the heck was I supposed to keep an under-the-radar and yet helpful spy position if everyone thinks I'm _dating _Draco? Not that I would mind, anyway...

Whoa. Where did that come from?

"No, Harry, Ron. I am not—nor will I be—dating Draco." I said with resignation.

I sat there, Minister, listening to the latest Hogwarts gossip. Boring stuff, mostly. But there was always the interesting bits. Like the fact that Pansy Parkinson was rumored to have cried between classes in the Slytherin Common Room due to a "spat" with Draco. That made me happy, see, but I knew that I could not act upon this newfound knowledge.

* * *

The next week was spent making amends to the Golden Trio's friendship, and after that week, I had very little to give, information-wise. I was not looking forward to my next check-in with my father, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it happened.

It was probably best to come up with something, especially because it only left one more week before it became clear that I would be going home for Christmas break, but my "parents" knew nothing about it.

"Hermione?" His voice snapped me out of my daydream.

"What?" I spat at the hook-nosed man, irritated tremendously.

"I just wanted to say..." he looked pained. _Pained, _Minister, when he said the next sentence. "Your potion is... satisfactory."

I guess you could say that this was the point in my story that I realized something. I had _power. _Not only that, but people _feared _me. I could get what I wanted. People would do what I asked.

I just had to use what I needed to get what I wanted. And this was the point at which I subconsciously decided I would use this power to my advantage.

On a related side note, no more failing potions.

* * *

_"The Dark Princess." The Death Eater bowed low. "Your father is... occupied. He wanted me to contact you in order to prepare for your arrival in a week."_

_"Okay."_

_"You are to take the Hogwarts Express to King's Cross Station. From there, you are to follow, _covertly,_ Draco Malfoy to his father's safe spot to Apparate from. You are to go to the Malfoy estate. You will stay there until further notice."_

_"When will I see my father?"_

_"Shortly after you arrive at the Malfoy Manor." The Death Eater continued._

_"But after I meet him? Where will I stay?"_

_"You will stay with the Dark Lord's most trusted servant until he notifies you otherwise."_

_I bowed my head slightly, feeling chastised._

_"But he has one last message: he looks forward to seeing his daughter in a conscious state. With proper... attire."_

_I looked down, not having ever noticed I was still clad in whatever I slept in. I grinned sheepishly. "Please tell him I return the same sentiments."_

* * *

**Please let me know what you think.**

**Karina**


	13. The Heat of the Wait

**Quote: "Put a man and a girl on stage and there is already a story; put a man and two girls, there is already a plot." ~George Balanchine**

**I apologize for such a long wait. Really, I have no excuse except an increase in dance, and a decrease of time.**

* * *

_Chapter 13: The Heat of the Wait_

I refuse to ever be quoted, but the first thing I did upon waking that night was going straight to Dumbledore. I immediately asked him for permission to leave the grounds to Hogwarts. I had realized that I had very little in the sense of "proper attire", and that I should remedy the situation immediately.

I felt that, since I already was going to hell, (that had been established the previous night), I might as well look good. I got clearance to go into Hogsmeade where there was a dress shop.

The following day, I left to go. It was a Saturday, and I had no classes. Considering the fact that Professor Dumbledore knew who I was, it was poor fore-sight to let me go alone. I bought a forest green spaghetti-strap mid-thigh dress with a silver floral overlay with silver strappy three inch heels. I also got a blood-red dress that came mid calf with black tulle under the skirt half. The skirt had folds in it so that if I spun quickly, it spread out to my knees in a circle. It was an over-the shoulder dress that didn't come down too low, or too high. The third dress I bought was a black halter. It was almost indecent. I felt very exposed in it as it was low-cut and short. The skirt was simple, an A-line, but the top was intricate. The ties were long and, even after being tied in a large bow, they came down below my butt. The ties came up from the front in a diamond shape, accented by the deep V-neck. It was essentially backless.

My choices in colors were planned out carefully. I figured I could use the green to suck up, and that I knew I looked good in red, and did people really care if I wore red if I was the Dark Princess? And black is hot.

Anyway, that night was one of the last before break. I studied hard, though I considered blowing it off. Yeah, I know how much I had changed, but, Minister, you don't know how it felt. All of a sudden, I faced such severe loyalty from so many people. I was given so much power all at once.

And you know what they say... power corrupts. Not to say that you, my dear Minister, are corrupted... but, that's a saying. I swear...

I'm going to continue my story now, pretending I just didn't insult the half of the wizarding world that controls law...

* * *

The next morning, I remembered my promise to Ron that I would go visit his family during the last few days of Christmas break. Clearly, my father would not enjoy this arrangement, so I broke it off with Ron. I remember saying that my parents were concerned that I wasn't spending enough time with my little sister. At which point, Ron pointed out that he never heard me mention my sister.

So I said that I miss her too much to talk about. I think I called her Kirsten. Maybe it was Kristen? Kari? Anyway, Ron got off my case, and I hopped on the train with a heavy heart. Now, I wasn't worried about things like what my "parents" would say when they realized that I had ditched them, and that I had found out I was adopted. I was much more concerned about what would happen at Draco's house. I mean, what if I angered my father? He _is _the most famous dark wizard of all time, right?

I spent the entire train ride agonizing over such tasks and had very little to gain from it, and when the train slowed to a stop, I stepped off and causally leaned through the barrier. I left the station and waited outside until I saw Draco pass by me. Stealthily, I followed him, trying to make sure nobody noticed me.

Draco took me to a nearby pub. It was... grungy. There, he waited until I caught up with him. "A room," he asked, "for the both of us."

Instantly, my face flushed, and he winked at me, that scumbag. But I knew that it was necessary to keep up appearances' sake, and I immediately fell all over him, following the landlord to a room. As soon as we were left alone, Draco turned to me and bowed.

"My Princess," (an eye roll was inserted here) "you must forgive my family, but Apparating is not the best way to travel right now, as all types of transportation into and out of the Manor are being... monitored. We do have an infiltrator who is currently running the Floo Network. His shift starts in three minutes, and we can go by Floo." He motioned at his watch vaguely.

"That's fine. I don't really care, you know." I rolled my eyes again.

"Oh. Well... that's good..."

A slightly awkward silence ensured until Draco stood up and took started a fire. Quickly glancing at his watch, Draco dropped some powder in the fire and sent our bags away.

" 'Malfoy Manor'. Ladies first."

I laughed then, despising the fact that we didn't go together. I mean, close quarters and all... but then I realized it would be for the best. In a couple of minutes, Draco would have to be completely submissive.

"Okay, then... 'Malfoy Manor!' "

And off I went, through the flames.

* * *

**I look forward to any reviews! (And the next chapter is almost done, so I can say that the wait won't be NEARLY as long.)**

**Karina**


	14. Introductions and Such

**Quote: "Until you're ready to look foolish, you'll never have the possibility of being great." ~Cher**

**The song "They Weren't There" by Missy Higgins helped me write this if you want to listen to it...**

* * *

_Chapter 14: Introductions and Such_

I stepped out of the heat, knowing I had entered a different world. The fireplace was in the corner of the room. An elaborate table was in the middle with masked men sitting around it. Masked Death Eaters, I probably should specify. The style of the room was just over-the-top. It had armchairs in front of the fireplace that were black leather. The candles on the table were in silver candlesticks, and though the lighting was dim, the remaining color scheme seemed to be based around silver, gold, forest green and black.

As soon as the men looked up, they fell to the floor and bowed low. I was certain that they would get their robes caught on fire, but to my astonishment, they didn't.

Simultaneously, they said "My Princess," and I errantly thought that they had practiced. (It wasn't until later, when I thought it out, that I realized they probably had.)

At the time, however, I couldn't help myself and snorted quite rudely. The look on the single, unmasked face was enough to shut me up and stop myself from entering hysteria. "Welcome to my... manor." Mr. Malfoy had an appearance that he had swallowed half of his words in fear or just sense.

"Thank you..." I said slowly, deciding not to press the issue about the half-sentence because I had already offended most of them by laughing out of place. In addition, I felt... obligated to make a good impression, even if _they _should be worried about impressing _me._

Draco stepped out of the fire and broke the tense, awkward silence by grinning cheekily. Quickly, my hero prattled off last names, pointing at each masked figure, who, in turn, stood up one by one. A certain pride... or cockiness was evident in each of their body language. They stood almost too tall. Or maybe it was just that the smiles I could see just below the edge of the mask seemed cruel and calculating, judging my every move, noise and twitch.

My relief was imminent as Draco sensed my discomfort and quickly took me on an individual tour of the Manor. Just us. Somehow he knew that it was what I needed simply to get away from them at that time. We didn't speak about it though. He just took me around to most of the rooms, explaining what each room was and what it was used for. (Yes, there were so many rooms that I didn't know what they were used for.)

But the most important part of that day, Minister, was not that I got transported to the Malfoy Manor, and that I met the Death Eaters for the first time and saw that my power could be exercised over each and every one of them, nor was it that I realized that I _was_, in a sense, a "Princess" because I got my power from birth. From my father. I had inherited it.

The most important part of the day was when Draco opened my door for me and told me that I was expected at dinner, dressed formally, and he took my hand as he whispered: "I know. But it gets easier, I promise."

* * *

**Please review! I'm looking forward to it!**

**Karina**


	15. The First Feast

**Quote: "Until you're ready to look foolish, you'll never have the possibility of being great." ~Cher**

**The song "Unfaithful" by Rihanna helped me write this!**

* * *

_Chapter 15: The First Feast_

I dressed in the silver and green dress, figuring it best to suck up just a little bit. Just in case. And, after getting lost on my way to the dining room and being escorted in by Ashy, the House Elf, I figured my green and silver gress couldn't help me enough.

The Death Eaters stood around the room, waiting expectantly. As I entere, they bowed and got up and stood behind one of the high-backed chairs that surrounded the mahoghany table. I just stood in the doorway, not knowing which of the six unoccupied seats was my own, and I was, again, reminded of how out-of-place I felt.

A tense silence ensured before the double doors behind the Head of the table were opened by two house elves. My heart froze immediately as my father strode in quickly, followed by Lucius, Narcissa, Professor Snape and Draco. They were all regal in a way... acting as if they had no cares in the world because everyone would just have to follow their lead anyway. They stood behind their assigned chairs-- my father at the head, Professor Snape to my father's left, Lucius to Snape's left, Narcissa to Lucius' left, and Draco two seats from my father's right.

The remaining seat was at Lord Voldemort's right hand side.

As soon as I stood behind the last chair, my father sat down. He motioned for me to sit as well, and as soon as I did, the Death Eaters sat down as a group.

The place settings had too many forks and knives (I probably could have lasted for three days on my setting alone). The tablecloth was black, and oddly out-of-place. The number of candles in the middle of the table would have worried me except for the large water glass in front of me. There were only three females at the table: Narcissa, Bellatrix Lestrange, and myself. The males seemed... wary of them, almost as if they held some sort of hidden power. I took careful observations of everything except for one.

Finally, I couldn't ignore it any longer (all the Death Eaters' eyes were trained on him), and I turned to my father. A cold smile twitched on his face.

"A feast. A joyous celebration, for my daughter has accepted her position as daughter and heir." Greedy and malicious smiles flitted across the Death Eaters' faces, except for Snape and Malfoy, who were clearly "in" on this secret. "You will treat her as you would myself... after tonight." Narcissa's eyes blinked slowly, Professor Snape's neutral face attempted to tighten, and the grins of the remaining Death Eaters grew broader. "Until then, we eat..."

* * *

Talking was a seldom occurance when food was presented, and this first feast, although a celebration, was no different. Except in my eyes. Because nobody had told me something would happen _after_ the feast. And I was scared during the feast, waiting to find out what would happen. But, I was the Dark Princess, and damn it, I would do whatever I had to.

* * *

Descending the stairs... so many stairs, Minister...

It took a long time, let's put it that way, and we ended up in a cold gray room with only a single chair and five candles: two black, one silver, one green, and one red. That's it. As soon as we entered, the Death Eaters made a circle surrounding Draco, my father, and me.

"Every member has stood in your place. They wished to enter my ranks. Do you?"

"Yes," we breathed.

And so it began. I will not go into too much detail about what transpired in that room that night. But for the sake of this... memoir... I'll summarize for you. Draco and I had a long sleepless night. We suffered jeers, curses and cruelty.

I have a 4 centimeter-long white scar on the back of my neck near my hairline if you look closely, from when I was on my knees, and Bellatrix jerked my head backwards towards the glittering silver blade with a serpentile hilt, cutting both my neck and my hair.

The easiest punishers (Snape, Malfoy, Goyle) were spread out between Bellatrix, Nott, Norrington, Crabbe, etc. At the end of each rite, the Death Eater would exchange blood with us. Though I worried about HIV and such, I actually _trusted _them not to hurt me like that.

However, it did end. It was our... initiation. It ended at first light, though nobody really knew when that was in that cold, dank room.

One last thing about this first feast: the night after, Draco and I fell asleep doing a Charms essay on the kitchen table. When I woke, I found Draco stroking my chopped hair slowly. It was a good nap.

* * *

**I highly apologize. I meaned to get this out before Hanukah and Christmas, as an early gift, BUT, due to circumstances beyond my control (I, uh... got larangitis, and got really sick. Like, bed-ridden sick.) I couldn't get on to the computer. SO SORRY!**

**So this is now a 2009 gift! Happy NEW YEAR!**

**Karina**


End file.
